Toy Box

Looking down
Into the square of a toy box
I see yesterday’s playthings
Chipped and smashed.
Things that brought smiles
Just an arms stretch back
Bright coloured planes
And cars, stirred up
Like suds swished in a sink
Then drained.
I can’t touch them
Too far away
For a foreigner
So I’ll close the lid
To close my eyes
And dream another child of god
Will look in
And stack the building blocks
Back up
To the sky

Jerry Pike